Rogan

Rogan was an outlaw, he was free.

Having fun was something that came along with the job, well...I think that's what fun is. Rogan was exceptionally fun due to the fact that he wanted to have fun... he wanted to feel the adrenaline flow through his veins, he wanted to spark up his nerves and override his brain. He did, and I made him do it, and in the end, he got everything he always wanted.

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I did not choose Rogan, he chose me. I was dancing at a bar and he asked me to dance! I was even taking a break from emptying people inside and ruining their lives. But he was watching all across the dance floor searching for some new prey probably and his eyes landed on me, on the red-headed girl swaying to the music she did not feel. He came stalking over to what he thought was a helpless girl but what was really a predator, one that gods themselves are afraid of. He smirked at me and I did not smile. I didn't even react but he kept on coming, he kept on insisting. He offered me his hand.

"Wanna dance?" he asked as a faint lisp escaped his lips, he definitely had his fill of alcohol.

"Mhmm," I answered as I took his hand.

You could feel the alcohol pumping through him and his thoughts running wild and igniting his nerves. Dancing with him was getting lost and found at the same time. It was being transported to a different world while still aware, very aware of my surroundings, everything sharp and bright. There was no doubt that Rogan had picked correctly, at least for the time being.

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Rogan thought it was going to be just another lady, one more night, one more experience, just one more. I was not "just one more," no, I was forever and he was "just one more," Rogan liked moving fast, easy and smooth, but he just tripped and fell, with the wrong person... or should I say muse? I am sure Rogan wasn't intending to include feelings, but you can never fight against a Muse, especially me! I will allure him, pry him open and then throw him away, so he can join the others.

I loved Rogan's freedom, he had no rules, no limits, no boundaries! It was all about moments and adrenaline. Feeling his freedom in my brain was exhilarating and I always wanted more and more... and I got more and more. Rogan took me out for the first time to a fair, we mounted the Ferris wheel (and made out) we ate cotton candy and stole prizes from this bald man's booth. Rogan was always dragging me along, always searching for the next adventure, he was ticking them off since this would be his last one.

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"You set me free,"

I did not set you free Roggie, I trapped you. I remember when you said this to me my nerves sparked up and danced so much I almost felt something, almost. But alas, not even your freedom was enough! Those adrenaline shots he took while breaking rules came to me! Not you! They left you! I made them leave you! Oh if only you had resisted the temptation to walk into danger, to live through one more risk! You shouldn't have locked eyes with me, a Muse. You should've moved on, learning what is good and what's bad. I did not set you free, I trapped you

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"I would break any rule for you,"

But he never broke another one after I left, he never felt the need to after I left. Every emotion of wanting, I took it from him, he stopped wanting. Even to live. Those last months, those days he tried to kill himself twice, I got to him in time, once with his face turning blue and the other one with the pills in his shaking hand. I did not feel pity or blame, but alas, a muse only felt love for her prey. I did love him, and I could not let him die... at least not while he was still giving me his freedom. It took five nights in the hospital and one with him having an anxiety attack. After a long time, after so many preys, so many deaths, so many souls, I gave something back. I gave Rogan the will to leave again, I paid high for that little action. But that is not your story, it's mine. I gave him the will to live back but I sometimes wonder... was it really right? Did I do good? Maybe it's better to be dead than be trapped in your own life, your own suffocating rules, no games, and no fun. But how would I know? I stopped feeling a long time ago before anybody stepped on the universe and when everything was a war between earth and sky.

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I left you with newfound freedom, freedom from your tightening grasp and your unbreakable rules. I left you and I felt free, while you felt tied to something gone. Your mind was never the same, it was broken into a million pieces.

The psychiatrists were never able to just pinpoint one single mental disorder, anxiety, OCD, depression... maybe PTSD? He spent half your days in a psychiatric hospital and the other half locked up alone, afraid to even open a window.

His Freedom Is Mine.